


Gray

by peppermintquartz



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Implied Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 22:40:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1705163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermintquartz/pseuds/peppermintquartz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham has a vivid imagination. Hannibal Lecter likes to draw it out of Will. Minor fluffy fic, if fluff included descriptions of murder and hallucinations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gray

The latest case was more painful than Will had been mentally ready for, and he said as much to his psychiatric therapist.

"They were just  _children_ ," he said for perhaps the fifth time in their session, the heels of his hands pressed against his eyelids. The low-level migraine that had pestered him throughout the day threatened to explode into a major one, but he resisted the urge to complain. At least he still had a head.

Dr Hannibal Lecter hummed noncommittally. "Do you find it harder to do your work when the victims are children?"

"Yes." Will did not explain why, knowing that the doctor would gently and persistently pry it out of him anyway. He would rather have Dr Lecter do the hard work instead of admitting the horror of it himself.

As Will expected, Dr Lecter asked, "In what way is it harder for you?"

"Is it easier for you when your patients are obviously crazy, or harder?" Will snapped back, and then bit his lower lip in contrition. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

"I know. But I think you have to think why you resisted that question."

The weather outside could not seem to determine if it ought to rain at all. Will could hear the rumble of thunder and occasionally the room would be harshly lit by a flash of lightning, yet the storm refused to release its contents. The younger man pulled at his sleeve and stood up to pace, the energy building under his skin becoming too much to bear.

As always, Hannibal Lecter just watched.

Finally Will said, "It's easy to see how she did it, and to see why, but it's  _hard_ to pull away. And I... Fuck." He could feel the pressure of tears closing up his throat. He leaned back and rested against the ladder. Then he swore again under his breath, hoping Dr Lecter would not catch the hitch in his voice.

"This is a safe space, Will," said the psychiatrist, rising slowly and approaching Will from the side. Supportive, not combative. "There is nothing you need to hide from me."

"No one should endure nightmares," said Will bitterly. "Not when you've been good to me."

"I am probably the only one equipped to deal with your nightmares, Will," said Dr Lecter. His tone was low and calm, not sympathetic, and it helped center Will on the present. 

"And yet." Will laughed, though to his ear it sounded like a sob. "I am seldom so... considerate."

"Close your eyes. Tell me what you see, Will." The older man was next to him now, a hand resting on a rung on the ladder, not touching Will, but his body heat seemed to warm Will up.

The profiler closed his eyes and shielded them with his right hand. In the darkness behind the eyelids, he could see himself melting into  _Her, feeding the children with rich food that they had been deprived of all their lives, poor darlings, you deserve good things, let me love you_

_Look at your smiles aren't you happy_

_Why do you want to go home? T_ _his is home_

_No, don't look at me like that don't you understand I love you I will give you everything you want just stay_

_PLEASE_

_I don't want you to go you can't go don't go no_

_I'm lonelylonelylonelylonelylonely-_

"God," Will choked out, bending forward abruptly, feeling as though he could be sick. An arm shot out to grab him around the waist to keep him from falling forward onto his face. "She is so scared of being alone."

"It is a universal fear," said Dr Lecter quietly. He assisted Will to the chair again and gently wiped Will's sweat-damp brow with a handkerchief. "To be alone not by choice is terrifying."

"I don't want to empathize with her, Dr Lecter," Will gritted out. "I need her out of my  _head._ "

"Why do you think you are empathizing with her?"

"Because it's my job."

"Your job is to interpret the evidence and profile the killers. It is not your job to feel for them." Hannibal Lecter's voice is still controlled, calm, quiet. His right hand cups Will's cheek tenderly. "What makes her different, Will?"

Will stared at the psychiatrist bleakly. It took an eternity for him to mutter the answer: "I know loneliness."

Dr Lecter's eyes soften, as though he meant to smile, and placed the other hand on Will's face. "You chose solitude."

"I'm not good as a companion," Will replied. He was transfixed by the heat from the older man's palms. It seemed to drain the migraine away, and the woman's voice had receded with his touch. "Solitude is... simpler."

"But you are lonely."

Will wanted to argue that he had friends, but he knew Dr Lecter would see through the lie instantly, and there was no need to insult the man's intelligence. Will wet his lips and said, "It seemed a small price to pay."

"No one should ever be lonely," the doctor chided, his tone fond. He made as though to withdraw, but Will grabbed his wrists. "Will?"

"Please," said Will. 

"This is... not appropriate."

"Who's going to know?" Will asked.

Dr Lecter's burgundy eyes darkened. "That is a dangerous path you will have me tread, William."

"Please," Will said again, his hold tightening. Then he attempted to smile faintly. "You are stronger than I am. If you had meant to leave..."

"I want only for you to be safe in your head," said Dr Lecter.

Will slid his hands to cover his psychiatrist's, tug them so that the warm hands covered his ears. "I need you to shut her voice out." He then leaned forward, eyes half-lidded, closing the distance, until he could feel Hannibal Lecter's breath on his face.

The older man sighed. "I would have to cease all sessions with you."

"I won't look for another psychiatrist."

"You need someone to talk to, Will."

"I will talk to you," Will murmured, feeling reckless, "on dinner dates. You and me, dinner, maybe even a movie, and we can talk all night. Can I call you Hannibal?"

The amusement in the older man's voice was palpable. "I thought that was how you always addressed me."

"In my head you are Dr Lecter. Were. Would be 'were' if you would just shut up and kiss me right now."

The kiss was tender, almost as though Hannibal was holding back. Will let go of Hannibal's hands and carded his own fingers into Hannibal's hair, mussing up the elegant perfection that the doctor wore around him. That apparently did the trick: Hannibal tightened his grip and deepened the kiss, licking into Will's mouth with eagerness. Will could hear soft whines as though his dogs were begging for treats, and realized that it came from his own throat. A surge of startled delight swelled up in him and he wrapped his arms around Hannibal's neck, feeling the muscles in that broad back shift.

It was possibly only minutes when Hannibal pulled back from the kiss, but Will felt like he had had days of just Hannibal tasting his mouth. His lips were tender and flushed. The older man looked tousled, and Will was darkly pleased to see that he had managed to shake that incredible composure.

"Dinner and a movie," said Hannibal - Will was very content with the switch - "Rather plebeian, don't you think?"

Will ran a thumb over his lower lip. He did not miss seeing the doctor's small intake of air and his sudden laser focus. Will licked his upper lip, and from the irritated yet fond glare from Hannibal, knew that the jig was up.

"Dinner and a movie," Will insisted. "It's rather appalling that I am asking you out on a date, following a confession that I'm empathizing with a killer, and even more appalling that I don't particularly care anymore. But yes. Dinner and a movie. It's traditional."

Hannibal shook his head ruefully. "Fine," he said. "I get to choose the movie."

"Only if it's in English."

The psychiatrist looked pained.

Will faltered and conceded, "Or if it has English subtitles."

Hannibal sighed. He straightened his jacket and said, "I don't think we ought to let anyone else know about this."

"I understand," said Will, and slouched back in his chair. "Your place or mine?"

"Yours has dog hair on the furniture."

"Do you even own a television and Blu-ray player?"

"I have a tablet."

"I'll bring a laptop."

Though the small talk on their date seemed trivial, Will was grateful. At least the woman's voice had left him alone. He suspected that she would come to take up space in his head, but as long as he had Hannibal, however long the older man wanted him, then her words would not be able to sink their claws into his psyche. Maybe he could purge himself of her before Hannibal left him.

_I'm lonelylonelylonelylonelylonely-_

_I don't want you to go you can't go don't go no_

_PLEASE_


End file.
